


swinging door policy

by olavidalo



Series: 1. 2. 3. [3]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Actual Infidelity, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Ambiguous Relationships, Angst, Dubious Consent, Emotional Infidelity, F/M, M/M, Misunderstandings, Prejudice, Shaming of Some Sort, time skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-04
Updated: 2013-07-04
Packaged: 2017-12-17 17:43:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/870218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olavidalo/pseuds/olavidalo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They say you never forget your first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	swinging door policy

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. All lies. Un-beta'ed, un-britpicked lies. Also:  
> A+ = A tee's = 80s  
> O+ = O plus = Opies  
> Switch = as it sounds

As Zayn tells it, he got his first high when he was just a little thing.  
  
Completely accidental, he insists. One of his friends -- Harry, Liam suspects -- unintentionally ordered him to do something too open-ended. Zayn's body couldn't handle the constant rush of anticipatory hormones: he'd blacked out and was abed with a comedown fever and a cold for a half-week.  
  
When Liam was younger, he'd always thought falling in love would be kind of like that - a chemical high that burned through your system, leaving you sick and barely there.  
  
But the first time he saw Zayn, it was like. It was like --

 

* * *

 

Liam stayed at his aunt's for the summer, once.  
  
It was a dismal experience. Every other sentence out of his cousin Robbie's mouth had something to do with rolling an Opie over and giving them a good hard rogering or roberting or whatevering.  
  
'It's simple biology,' he'd say, the minute his little sister was out of the room. Robbie'd a particularly revolting habit of picking at his teeth with his smallest finger. 'They really can't help themselves.'  
  
Even at 13, Liam'd always thought it was strange how vague a 'they' Robbie'd used - surely Nicola and Rihanna and Prince Charles couldn't all be exactly the same?  
  
Anyway - the next time Liam sees Robbie is at Ruth's wedding: he went on some quote spiritual journey unquote and came back a Switch, happily loved up under a very pretty 80 named Abril. This all happens three days and forty-seven Doniyan text messages after civil partnerships are opened up to Opies.  
  
It's also four days after Liam proposes to Zayn in front of God, fifteen strangers, and the waitstaff at Rolando's.

 

* * *

 

Zayn says no.

 

* * *

 

Harry insists on accompanying Liam to the wedding. (Zayn begs off sick, and would've even spent the entire morning hiding under the covers if Liam's Eldredge hadn't kept faltering at Windsor.)  
  
'You --'ve to know how to han-dle him,' Harry says, after downing enough flutes to join an orchestra. Liam presumes he's talking about Zayn and not the waiter who's been throwing them both cheeky glances all night. Of course Harry would know about the proposal; Zayn tells him everything.  
  
'He can be,' and Harry stares long, lovestruck and lonely, at the floor - as if it's transformed suddenly into the face of his most recent ex-girlfriend, or something very close to it, 'he can be quite shy.'  
  
Only with you, Liam thinks, he's only shy with you. The words bubble so high up in his throat that he wisely decides to abstain from champagne for the rest of the evening. So he isn't quite drunk, precisely, when Harry kisses him later that night. He does try to pretend, for both of their sakes; but his 'Wh- _oops_ ' is smothered by another kiss, and then another, and then he can't quite draw breath for laughter by the time Harry yanks him down by his tie.

 

* * *

 

Shy? The only time Zayn's shy with _Liam_ \-- is in bed.

 

* * *

 

Liam always thought there was something rather sordid and pointed about the bottles of discreet hygiene wash he'd always see in hotel bathrooms. This was, of course, before he'd cheated on his longtime boyfriend with said boyfriend's childhood best friend.  
  
Harry runs into the bathroom just when Liam's got a good lather going the next morning, says, 'Oh, thank _God,_ ' when he sees there's another bottle - then blushes spectacularly at the sight of Liam, washed bare in the spray.  
  
And that's as close as they come to talking about it.

 

* * *

 

Harry comes over all the time, has always, is the thing; the flat reeks of him even when he's not around. Liam never used to mind it (much) but ever since--uh, ever since Harry's most recent ex broke things off, he's gotten a little bit too--comfortable.  
  
Liam smells them before he sees them: Zayn and Harry are cuddled up in front of the telly and don't even blink when he comes through the door. Zayn takes a moment to get untangled on the couch before he comes padding towards him. 'Hey, babe,' he murmurs, quiet and happy, as he always is around Harry. He smooths his hands down Liam's shoulders before leaning up to kiss him.  
  
He smells like Harry. Liam deepens the kiss, flits open his eyes.  
  
Over Zayn's shoulder, Harry meets his gaze with a slow, bright smile.  
  
Smug, one might say.  
  
It'd be stupid to be worried over it. Harry's an idiot, is all.  
  
'He's lonely, is all,' says Zayn, when Liam half-heartedly brings it up, before bed. 'Why? Y'jealous?' He grins, sharp and appreciative, crawls across the sheets. 'Fairly certain you're the only person with designs upon my virtue.'  
  
'Oh, or lack thereof,' Liam says, cheeky, and Zayn goes down easy, smile wide, just for him.

 

* * *

 

Liam knows Zayn's his because of pure, rotten luck. He doesn't stand out in a crowd like Leigh, can't work a room like Niall, can't even impress people like Eleanor. If he'd gone about it fair and square, there's no way Zayn would've chosen him over Harry.  
  
Sometimes - when Harry comes over and Zayn's work headaches just seem to evaporate - Liam really wishes he hadn't.

 

* * *

 

'Hey, you know what's funny?' Zayn says, when they're both stood in front of the bathroom mirror, for once, brushing their teeth at the same time.  
  
'Hhh?' Liam asks. Spits. Rinses.  
  
'Niall says Harry's new girlfriend looks like me,' he says, then laughs, bright and untroubled. 'Dumb as hell, eh?'  
  
Liam's an hour late to work, then two, then three, then finally he just calls in sick. He's bound to get a dressing down for it tomorrow, but he can't find it in himself to care, not when Zayn's shuddering through another orgasm, dry, scrambling back against Liam as his limbs seize up and sink down, 'oh, God, fu-ck, Liam, _please_ \--'

 

* * *

 

Most of the time, though, he's just ridiculously glad that Harry's too much of a coward to ever say how he really feels.

 

* * *

 

Harry's new girlfriend really does look like Zayn.  
  
'It's mostly in the eyes,' Liam confides, halfway through his surprise birthday party. This time he is drunk. 'See how she smiles?'  
  
Harry grunts. Zayn and his doppleganger (Janey, 22, half-Romanian, hospital worker, a friend of one of Louis's cousins) have been talking all evening and Harry is clearly displeased about it. Niall keeps striking increasingly elaborate poses around them - he claims it's because the situation is a Facebook album waiting to happen, but no one's taking pictures, and anyway it's clear he's just doing it because Leigh's close to falling off the couch with laughter.  
  
'She told me she can't wait to start a family,' Liam says. It's a lie -- they've barely exchanged two words ('Happy birthday!' 'Hey, thanks!') -- but it doesn't feel like a lie when he feels like this. 'What do you think about that, hm?'  
  
Harry snaps his eyes away from Zayn and Janey to stare at him. Liam swallows, hard. Okay, it's beginning to feel like a lie.  
  
'I think you should worry about knocking your own whelp up before you talk about mine,' says Harry.  
  
Liam punches him in the face. It's nice, finally having a reason to do so.  
  
Harry goes down easy - crumples, really. What's not easy is the shouting - Lou and El and Leigh and Niall and Jayn--Zayn and Janey come crowding around Harry, helping him up and pushing him back down. Liam stands back, watches the proceedings.  
  
'I'mb bfine, I bdeserbed it,' Harry says, clearly embarrassed. 'I should brobably go.' Blood's dripping all down his-- _Liam's_ button down even though he's cupping his face. Regret and satisfaction slide together so smoothly, Liam can hardly tell them apart. He watches Harry get to his feet - and reach for Zayn instead of Janey.  
  
'Oh,' says Janey, at the same time Harry realises his mistake. Both he and Zayn go horribly red.  
  
Liam just laughs and laughs.

 

* * *

 

For convenience's sake, they wait until their lease is through to breakup.  
  
Zayn gets Lou and El in the divorce, Liam Leigh and Niall.  
  
Harry disappears to go on a quote spiritual journey unquote - but of course Zayn gets him, too.

 

* * *

 

He happens by a cafe a few months later on the opposite side of town, sees Harry and Zayn sat together inside. Harry says something before getting up - and Zayn does that fucking face that Liam had never, not in five years of dating, ever seen directed at him. Harry comes back with enough napkins to stop up Gaping Gill. Zayn's face goes soft and sweet and just a little bit sly.  
  
Liam's never been great at reading lips. He wonders what they're saying.  
  
'I'm a fucking dickhead,' says Harry, if he's being perfectly honest.  
  
'Ha ha, true,' replies Zayn. He blinks, sees Liam staring. His face smoothes over into a light, unimpressed smile. Nothing new there. Harry turns his head.

Grins, smug as anything. Waves.  
   
Liam dredges up a smile from somewhere, waves, turns right back around. He waits till he's round the corner to swipe at his eyes.  
  
Love really is a wreck.

 

* * *

 

\--it was like all the air in the room rushed into his lungs; and he was overflowing, too large for his body, too big for the room, too much for anyone, anyone, but him.


End file.
